The Dust of Broken Hearts and Burnt Wings
by Black Lightning Bolt
Summary: "A sense of growing horror built in his heart at the sight as he stepped around the corpses, a silent pleading in his mind that he wanted to scream to the heavens and cry to the God he had long since forsaken for hell…" Crowley hopes his heart is lying, if not the pain will be too much to bear. Gabriel/Crowley short oneshot slash. Spoilers for 5x19.


_**A/N: I've wanted to write a Growley fic for a while now and this is what I came up with. Enjoy!  
**__**Pairing: Crowley/Gabriel (Growley)  
**__**Disclaimer: Supernatural doesn't belong to me  
**__**Summary: "A sense of growing horror built in his heart at the sight as he stepped around the corpses, a silent pleading in his mind that he wanted to scream to the heavens and cry to the God he had long since forsaken for hell…" Crowley hopes his heart is lying. Gabriel/Crowley slash. Spoilers for 5x19. **_

Crowley felt it through their bond when his soul mate died. He felt that burning flame of light as it was shattered and extinguished even from his hiding place miles away from the source. He knew it wasn't a ruse either despite his desire to deny it. He had always known the difference between the illusions and reality spun so intricately by his bonded but he never thought that knowledge could be painful until that moment. The dying scream of his lover echoing in his head and mirrored by his own as his fell to his knees at the agony and anguish.

Gone…murdered.

_Gabriel..._

_**No.**_

He refused to believe it. He couldn't. Gabriel was an archangel, a god and an unstoppable force. He couldn't be dead. Only…Lucifer was just as, if not more, powerful than his golden eyed mate. It was possible that if Gabriel had managed to make the devil angry enough Lucifer would harm him but the angels thought Gabriel dead after his disappearance in the first war. Lucifer couldn't have known the truth unless Gabriel revealed himself. Trembling, the king of the crossroads stood up half-heartedly dusting off his trousers with shaking hands. He had to know if it was another of Gabriel's tricks that only felt cruelly realistic, knew what he would do if it was. (Make his mate _beg_, make him _scream_ and _writhe_ in delicious pleasure, make him never scare Crowley so much ever again. Maybe even keep him bound and wanting for days until the archangel couldn't take it for even one second more and broke down for him, staying in hell forever at his side. His and his alone - just how Gabriel should be.)

So he tracked the source of his distress to a hotel called Elysian Fields. Too easily, he thought before he entered the eerily quiet building and when he did he found out why. The walls were splattered with drying blood and flecks of withering flesh, bodies littering the corridors as he walked through them. Gods, he realised with a shiver of fear, the pagan deities murdered in what could only be their own residence. A sense of growing horror built in his heart at the sight as he stepped around the corpses, a silent pleading in his mind that he wanted to scream to the heavens and cry to the God he had long since forsaken for hell.

_Please not Gabriel, anyone but him._

He followed the corridors to a set of double doors but before he reached them the sound of sobbing had made him pause and press himself into one of the cleaner patches of wall, listening to the soft gasping sounds that broke the dismal silence. After a while they stopped suddenly and a familiar, soft whooshing sound filled the air; the sound of an angel taking flight. For a brief moment Crowley had hoped it was Gabriel but when the suffocating feeling in his heart stayed motionless he knew it wasn't. The youngest of the archangels was in that room and all he could feel was dread. So he stayed in his place, desperately trying to draw up some courage. He told himself that his fear meant nothing, the pain could mean nothing and it could all be a misunderstanding. That at worst Gabriel was just injured and Crowley could help him, nurse him back to health, and Gabriel would be safe in his arms once more. Eventually his positive thinking worked and he pulled himself away from the wall and stepped inside the room.

To find that he was a fool to even hope.

The body of his lover lay unmoving in the centre of the room, the blade Crowley recognised as Gabriel's own stuck deep in his heart, and the shadowy dust of the once majestic wings of an archangel blanketing the carpet around him. A sob caught in Crowley's throat as he hurried forward, knees hitting the ground once again as he knelt beside the broken corpse. Too late, his mind screamed as his heart shattered just as Gabriel's grace had not an hour before, too late to save the golden eyed beauty he had once called his own.

"Don't leave me." The words a broken whisper, cracked and rough with grief and regret. "You can't leave me."

But Gabriel was already gone.

He can't remember how long he knelt there, tears falling freely and voice becoming coarser and coarser as he begged Gabriel to just wake up. He can remember standing when his voice finally betrayed him and no more sound fell from his pleading lips, gathering the archangel in his arms and pressing one last kiss to his forehead before he carried the body out of that hotel of death and despair. He can recall exactly how he paid his last respects to the only one he had ever loved, forcing his voice to return and laying Gabriel to rest at the base of an oak tree beside a clear blue river. He had thought it fitting at the time; Gabriel had always loved the old trees that had withstood the test of time and the symbolism of his given element of water. _Water is what brings creatures life,_ Gabriel had once told him, _without it the world would perish_, and he had been right.

The archangel that embodied water was gone and Crowley's world had perished with him.


End file.
